


Taking In Strays

by Snorp_Lord



Series: We Have Nothing to Lose and a World to See [6]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Soft Upgraded Connor | RK900, The relationship is there if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:35:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29978163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snorp_Lord/pseuds/Snorp_Lord
Summary: RK900 isn't built with a social module.Gavin doesn't mind it as much as he thought he would.
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Series: We Have Nothing to Lose and a World to See [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137977
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	Taking In Strays

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silverpaintedwings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverpaintedwings/gifts).



"Thing's fucking feral."    
  
"Well, no shit, buddy. They're robots. They're not gonna act like people." 

"No, I mean like...like they didn't even try and make this thing blend in." The technician led him over to where RK900 was still restrained in its cradle, straining against thick titanium bindings with everything it had. "I mean, look at the fucking teeth." He grabbed the android's head without warning, and prised apart its jaws to reveal a neat line of razor-sharp teeth. Literally razor sharp. The slightest brush of his finger against one as he pulled away was enough to slice open the man's fingertip. 

"...Okay, so why the fuck am I here? This is some shit for Kamski. Or what’s his face. Conrad? Hank? One of those guys.”

“Well, I don’t know why, but, um...We were told to hand it over to the DPD. Care of Detective Reed. Soon as anything happened with RK800. No idea what they want you to do with it. But my boss was pretty insistent.”

Great. Fan-phcking-tastic. So he had to make friends with some dog made of titanium and steel and whatever else they put in these things to make them work. And he’d have to play nice, what with Hank breathing down his neck any time Gavin was near his plastic pet. Hell, if they heard about this, they’d probably demand he hand it over to them so they could teach it about the power of friendship or whatever it was.    
  


He wasn’t fond of androids, but that didn’t mean it deserved to be bored to death.   
  


Gavin put his hand up in what he hoped was a placating gesture as he approached RK900. It wasn’t so much about the gestures anyway. If cats had taught him anything, it was more about tone. So he kept talking. “Niiice robot...Good little android, ain’tcha? Not gonna bite me, are ya? I’m gonna be your new owner, so...you know. Don’t snap my neck or whatever.”

For a moment, he was so sure it would work. For a moment, the RK900 stopped thrashing, and simply regarded him with a suspicious glare. For a moment, he was somewhat reminded of the little tabby that hung around behind the precinct building, where he used to smoke. 

What a nice thought.

But he hadn’t thought to keep his distance, so when Gavin’s hand drew just a little too close- 

“OW! PHCK-! PHCKING ANDROID!”

* * *

Eventually, the RK900 had to change clothes. Even though androids didn’t sweat, and RK900 in particular seemed to have an uncanny ability to always look perfectly composed (even when growling at the traffic below the apartment’s window), it was all but inevitable that it would get messy sooner or later while living with a particularly careless human. 

In the end, it was Gavin’s evening coffee to blame. He’d sipped it while it was still blowing smoke in his face, and had then quickly thrown it down in a panic when it burned his tongue. 

“Phcking thing! I left it for forever! Why isn’t it cold already?!”

Gavin turned towards RK900 like he was expecting a response, and instantly felt guilt wash over him. Most of the coffee hadn’t landed on himself, as expected, or even on the sofa. He’d been lucky in that regard. Instead, it decorated RK900’s bright white jacket in patches, with drops slowly sliding off the surface of his various LEDs. The cup had landed in his lap of all places. And had apparently done several flips on the way down. From what he could see, there was even coffee in RK900’s hair, somehow.

“Crap...Didn’t know it was gonna get on you. Get that shit off, we’ll get you cleaned up.”

RK900 just tilted his head, regarding Gavin in that faintly curious way it always seemed to. When it didn’t look downright pissed, that is.

“Jacket. Shirt. Off. We need to wash them.” He tried to indicate it by tugging at his own shirt as he spoke. Experience had taught him to avoid touching RK900 if it wasn’t needed. But thankfully, he seemed to get the message, and removed the Cyberlife jacket, folding it neatly into a square and offering it to Gavin. “This thing can go in a machine, right? I’m not gonna wash it in the sink. Don’t even know if I could...”

Though, really, the coffee had been his fault, and it would only be fair.

Thankfully, he didn’t need to find out either way. Upon closer inspection, the label sticking out of the jacket’s collar said machine washable. “That mean you guys are supposed to clean them yourselves? Get it? Machine wash-”

Somehow he got the sense RK900 was unamused. “-Alright, fine. Just kidding. No need to glare. Phckin’ tincan…Just gimme your shirt. I can lend you something in the meantime. Last thing I need is you walkin’ past the window and giving someone the wrong idea.”

RK900 moved both hands to the top button, but they hovered there for a long moment, not quite moving to continue yet. Only when Gavin looked back at him did he open the first few buttons.

“The phck is this…?”

Under the android’s high shirt collar was some kind of...block, was the best way he could put it. It looked like a rectangle that had been gently squished on all sides. And a thinner band of black...metal, maybe, ran from each side to keep it in place. The block itself bore a slightly raised Cyberlife logo. Part of the RK900’s design, maybe? The technicians had said he was a prototype, after all, so he might have all kinds of weird plugins. All Gavin could see with that uniform on was the RK900’s face and hands. Maybe that was even the point of the outfit. He scanned the block for more information.

_ Caution. Unit output 50,000 volts.  _

Electricity?

The logo was a button. To activate it.

That fucking thing was a shock collar. Like RK900 was some kind of dog that kept getting past the fence. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if that was why it was installed in the first place. 

Gavin scoffed in disgust. “These Cyberlife fuckers. Buncha corporate  _ assholes. _ ” 

A sentiment which only grew when he noticed the way RK900 was looking at him. The android wasn’t exactly the most expressive he’d ever met (even though he shared a face with Connor), but there were tells. Eyebrows drawn downwards just a little, frown just a little deeper, eyes flicking back and forth just slightly. “Relax, tincan. I’m an asshole, but not that kinda asshole. I’m not gonna use the phcking thing. Gonna call in the morning, see who’s up for taking it off. Gotta be someone in that company with a spine.”

For the first time, the RK900 actually smiled at him.

* * *

"I'm not gonna hurt you...It's okay. Just relax, Nines." He just meant to soothe the android a little, maybe run a hand through his hair gently, but his thumb brushed behind Nines' ear and he absolutely  _ melted _ .

"Like a damn puppy, aren't you?" Nines didn’t respond, but his simulated breathing grew more even as Gavin’s hand ran through his hair. His LED mellowed out to soft blue, a color that he’d never seen outside of the apartment. The light weakened from a harsh beam to a gentle glow. "There ya go...You see? Can be pretty nice when you stop trying to bite me."

The android’s core thrummed softly, making a noise somewhere between an overworked laptop and a purring cat. Definitely more the latter. But he didn’t dare say that. Or anything at all. If he’d ruined the moment, with Nines this close and this calm…

That would have  _ really  _ sucked, to put it lightly. Things had taken a long time to get this far, where Nines trusted him to be this close, and a part of him was almost proud of that. When Tina first came over, Nines had magically developed an interest in the car park below his balcony that lasted until he heard the front door shut. 

“I guess not so much like a puppy. More of a cat, huh? Maybe that’s why I let ya stick around.” Just like his own cat Pineapple, actually, when he’d first brought her inside. He’d brought Tina over then to similar results. “Can’t stop taking in strays, can I?”

Nines’ lips twitch into a slight smile. 

  
  


When Nines charges, he’s pretty much dead to the world. It’s better than hearing him wandering around in the middle of the night, for one thing, but there’s also another reason he insists on Nines plugging in every night.

In short, he looks pretty peaceful when he’s charging. 

Especially now. Pineapple quickly realised that Nines is very warm when he’s plugged in, and that he doesn’t move at all when he’s charging (unlike Gavin himself, who fidgets incessantly and migrates all over the bed within an hour), so now Nines sits ramrod straight on the sofa with an orange furball curled up in his lap from the moment Gavin goes to bed. He’s taken a  _ few  _ photos. But mostly just to show Nines the next day. But his phone’s new lockscreen is a picture of the cat perched on top of Nines’ head like a ridiculous wig.

The whole thing is disgustingly domestic. 

But Gavin can’t really blame her once he’s tried out napping with Nines. 


End file.
